


Perfect Equal

by Miss M (missm)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bondage, Branding, Fisting, M/M, POV Second Person, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-06
Updated: 2011-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-22 07:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missm/pseuds/Miss%20M
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the very beginning, he challenges you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Equal

From the very beginning, he challenges you.

He challenges your narrow-mindedness, of which you thought yourself incapable at first (but then you realise you don't even know the exact location of Durmstrang). He challenges your devotion to your siblings (you're bound to them by blood, but what makes blood more important than ability?) and the naive assumptions of your community (be kind to your Muggle oppressors -- _why_ , exactly?). He challenges your hitherto unquestioned superiority, the natural assumption that you are better than everyone else at everything, and leads your arguments in circles, showing you the fallacies of your ways.

You admire him for his beauty as well as for his intelligence, but the admiration is mutual. He is your perfect equal, and you are his.

When the relationship turns physical, you willingly go along with it, happy to finally explore this side of human experience with a worthy companion.

 

~

 

He is remarkably gentle the first time, pausing several times, letting you adjust. Conversely, when it is his turn, he wraps his legs around your waist and tells you in no uncertain terms to go harder. You, quick on the uptake as always, soon learn that this is the way you enjoy it, too. And like everything else the two of you do together, the act becomes a delicious competition.

You tie him up with binding spells and take him with his arms and legs spread open like an eagle's wings; he parts your thighs and enters you with that clever tongue of his. You slide your hand inside him, one finger at a time, no magic used; he brands the small of your back with the sign of the Hallows and licks the burnt skin afterwards, laughing quietly at your gasps and moans.

Already he is a master of Death, if not his own, then surely other people's. You recognise this in his dangerous charm, his lethal reflexes, his razor wit. You sometimes wonder if you could beat him in a fight, if the thrilling contest ever got serious. You think you could, even if he'd tear down your world in the process.

Not that it matters, other than as a curious experiment of thoughts.

 

~

 

Neither of you talks of romance, which is just as well. _Romance_ : a mundane concept, a product of the minds of mundane people, like the authors of those Muggle novels your mother used to read. _Want_ , or even _need_ , those are relentless, unsentimental, and acceptable to your logical mind. Romance is what goes on between a man and a woman, when she gives herself up to become his, a pretty thing for him to condescend to. This, however, is a bond between peers, true comradery, a meeting of the minds, the highest kind of love.

It's what you have been waiting for, the relief you have always craved, even without admitting as much to yourself. Like an eastern conqueror this stranger has swept in to free you from your chains -- you, his kin, his match -- and you have welcomed him with the joy of a liberated townsman.

Only in the dark of night, when you lie spent and satisfied next to him and listen to his breathing, do you ask yourself what you would do without him, if it ever should come to that -- if, having seen the world in its true colours, you would be able to return to the cave. And you suppress the thought as soon as it appears, for are you not invincible together, young and strong and brilliant? Hasn't Fate herself led him here, for you to have and to hold? Doesn't the world lie at your feet, unable to resist the joint forces of your magic?

You suppress the thought, wrap your arms about him and press him close, and vow to never let him know your secret fears.


End file.
